


Shallow Waters

by xobrandyxo123



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobrandyxo123/pseuds/xobrandyxo123
Summary: AU: Orm kills Arthur in the arena.Mera lives with the aftermath.





	1. Chapter 1

Mera’s eyes were worrying across the arena, her fingers digging absentmindedly into her father’s arm.

She felt him looking at her in bemusement, but didn’t dare glance away from the fight.

Arthur was matching Orm blow for blow, but there was an unsureness in his gait that left her anxious. The King was slowly forcing him towards the lava pit, inch by inch.

The tridents clanged as Arthur blocked when he should have ducked, and before she knew it, he was near the borders edge. Her heart was pounding as she watched Orm stalk closer, his face a blank mask. “I didn’t want to kill you. I hope you know that.” His voice was regretful, though she couldn’t be sure if there was any sincerity in it. His hands were clutching his trident tightly.

Arthur opened his mouth then. To yell, to plead, to curse, she could not say, as Orm speared the trident through his chest before any sound left his lips.

And then the world stopped moving.

She watched frozen, as a pool of red blood emerged into the water, as Arthur fell deep within the lava, as the crowd around her _roared_.

Her hands fell limp and her ears started ringing.

The darkness that followed was a cruel relief.

\---

Her eyes flickered beneath her lids, her torment unending.

She dreamt of a heartbroken Queen screaming her anguish into the night. Her eyes accusing. _Why did you let this happen?_

She dreamt of a father with rage splashed across his face. His mouth a harsh line. _Why didn’t you do anything_?

And lastly, she dreamt of a man. (An heir, a prince, a King.) His face was full of betrayal.

He had nothing to say to her.

\---

Even in the stages of slumber, she felt him.

His presence was suffocating, pushing down on her at all times.

Fingertips tracing alongside her arms and legs, her neck and face and lips. His touch left her skin raw and blistering. She was sure that from the outside looking in, it looked reverent. The rightful King watching over his betrothed, his face a picture of clandestine worry.

Mera knew better. It was a possessive gesture, making sure her body was aware of him, even if her mind was not. Marking her. Because Orm would have everything he desired, uncaring if what he desired did not want him in return.

She felt his lips upon her own then, breathing life into her body once more.

\---

The days that followed were a blur.

There was no funeral for Arthur, the bastard half breed brother that tried to take the throne.

He had scarcely existed to Atlantis before, the ugly stain that the exiled Queen had forced upon their kingdom. She had shamed them by neglecting her duty, for trying to escape her destiny, for lying with a surface dweller and polluting the royal line with his unworthy blood.

But now he was gone, killed by the man that shared his mother.

And Mera had just stood there and _watched_.

She should have fled from the royalty box, uncaring of the eyes that followed her. Should have ripped that stupid dress from her body and saved Arthur from an undeserving fate.

But she hadn’t.

And now his blood was on her hands.

 _Gods forgive me_ , She begged.

But the Gods never did

\---

Their wedding is a grand affair.

Orm stands proud in his regalia, his gold crown gleaming above his heavy brow. His back is straight and his shoulders proud, an easy smile graces his face.

The only thing belaying his tension is his crushing grip around her fingers, a warning if there ever was one.

Mera seethes.

She does not want this. To be bound to a man without mercy. Who murdered his own brother and plotted the demise of the ones who lived above them. A man who holds the world in his palms and yet still asks for more.

She risks a glance at him from beneath her lashes and is startled to see him gazing back at her. His blue eyes are like chips of ice, freezing her to her core.

 _Try and run_ , He dares her. _Try and shame me as my mother shamed my father and see what happens to you then_.

Mera holds his gaze steady and recites her vows.

\---

Three things happen next.

 

A ring is placed around her finger.

A mouth is seared against her own.

And a crown is placed upon her head.

\---

“Queen,” She whispers, and feels her body fill with shame.

\---

Night falls and she waits for him.

Her silver nails dig crescent moons into her palms, and her breathing is fast and shallow.

She had left the ceremony first, beating him to their chambers, mentally preparing herself for was what to come.

Mera had thought that he would arrive soon after, but time passed and still she was left alone. She hoped wildly that he would not come. Perhaps he meant for them to be man and wife in name only, finding some other room in which to retire.

But it was not to be.

He entered the room just as she found herself slinking into the bed, her eyes heavy with the weight of sleep. The first words out of his mouth were not what she had envisioned.

“Did he fuck you?” He asked brusquely, and Mera felt her eyes pop open.

“What?” She answered dumbly, a flush making its way down her chest.

His eyes went hard. “I said, did he fuck you?”

Anger clawed at her throat. “Did who fuck me?”

He scoffed before answering. “Do not take me for a fool Mera, I will only ask you this once more. Did. Arthur. Fuck. You?’"

Mera felt the water around her whirl, rankled with her disgust.

“How dare you-”

“How dare I?” He interrupted. “I saw the way you looked at him in the arena. The way you mourned that half breed traitor. If he got a bastard on you, and you think for me to raise it, I will throw you into the trench along with my mother!” He reached over and put his hand on her chin, forcing her face up. “Answer me!”

Mera jerked out of his grip, furious. “He never touched me like that! I knew him scarcely for a day before you murdered him!”

He was silent after that, weighing the truth of her words. He placed his palm above her thudding heart. “I will not be dishonored. Not now, and not ever, do you understand me?”

“I understand,” She whispered, her eyes glowing dangerously. “And I will not be dishonored by you either. If you ever put your hands on me like that again, it will be the last thing you do.”

His eyes widened in surprise before a blank mask took over once more. He jerked his head once in acknowledgement before stepping away from her, causing Mera to release a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She watched as he crossed the room, removing his crown in order to place it on a table, his clothes following suit. The sudden nakedness of his torso caused her to avert her eyes, reminding her once more of yet another duty she had to perform.

Swallowing thickly, her fingers found the buttons alongside the back of her dress, and she quickly undid them before she lost her nerve. Soon she was in nothing but a thin shift, her heavy gown discarded carelessly on the floor.

He was naked when he made his way onto the bed, and Mera felt disoriented. She had never seen him in anything other than heavy armor and padded clothing. To see him with nothing was like glancing at a turtle without its shell, unnatural and ultimately unnerving.

“Give me a child and I will consider this duty filled,” He said suddenly, his voice breaking into her reverie. Mera glanced at him wearily. “Only one?”

She watched him ponder.

“An heir and a spare,” He decided.

He moved closer to her then, and Mera felt her body stiffen. Before she knew it he was leaning over her, his fingers gliding across her breast. “I can make this quick or I can make this enjoyable, which would you prefer?”

His fingers had slipped the straps of her shift down, and her breast were bared before him. Mera had never felt ashamed of her body before, yet she found his gaze unnerving .

His mouth moved to her neck as she was inwardly debating, and she found herself gasping. His lips burned as they pressed against her skin, trailing kisses from the hollow of her throat towards the peak of her chest, his mouth capturing a nipple.

Her mind went hazy as she arched against him, and she panted as his other hand made its way down her body, rubbing slowly against her folds.

 _She wanted him_ , she realized suddenly, and a shameful ache filled her body.

It was the shame that cleared her thoughts, made her remember exactly who she was slick for, and she pushed him away from her suddenly.

He had killed Arthur, had driven a trident through his chest, and here she was a week later, panting beneath him and enjoying it.

She felt as though she might retch.

“Make it quick,” She blurted, forcing the image of dead Arthur out of her mind.

Orm grit his teeth as he regarded her, now halfway out of the bed from where she had shoved him. For a second she thought he meant to call her out, to tell her that he knew her shameful desires. But he simply spoke to her coolly. “Turn around.”

Mera blinked at him.

“Turn around,” He repeated, a hint of impatience in his voice.

She turned around, confused.

“On all fours,” He ordered, and Mera felt a wave of humiliation wash over her.

 _Fuck you_ she thought, as she positioned herself awkwardly. She stared at the wall as he spread her legs, and bit her lip as he slid in quickly.

It was not painful, yet it was not pleasant either. Neither of them made a sound during the process, and before she knew it he had spilled himself in her, pulling out as soon as he was done.

She turned around to face him. He had already started to put his clothes on, his eyes flickered towards her briefly. “We will do this nightly until you conceive. Do you understand?”

He spoke as though they were agreeing to a business deal. “Yes,” She affirmed, wondering how many more nights of this she had to endure.

Her thighs were sticky as she watched him gather his crown, placing it upon his head with an air of finality.

"Until tomorrow," He tells her, and leaves without a backwards glance.


	2. Chapter 2

Mera found herself back in the stadium, a spectator once more.

She looked into the arena and felt her breath catch, her fingers digging absentmindedly into her fathers arm. She felt his bemused gaze wash over her, but didn’t dare glance away from the fight.

Her mind felt hazy as she watched Arthur and Orm battle, their tridents sending ripples throughout the water. Their prongs clanged, again and again; the screeches sending vibrations straight to her skull.

Both brothers were diving and dodging, yet it was obvious that Orm was gaining the upper hand. She winced as his foot made contact with Arthur’s stomach, propelling him clear across the arena.

 _I have to help him,_ she thought desperately, yet her body remained frozen in place.

Before she knew it Arthur was at the borders edge, and her heart pounded as she watched Orm stalk closer. “I didn’t want to kill you. I hope you know that.”

Then it was _she_ who opened her mouth, to yell, to plead, to **scream** -

No words left her lips as Arthur was impaled, as a pool of blood surrounded him, as the crowd around her  _roared._

Her hands fell limp and her ears started ringing.

There was no darkness to fall into this time, only a bitter, blinding light.

——- 

She woke with a gasp, images of blood shrouding her vision. 

The memories faded as she glanced about her room. The essence of jellyfish light filled her chamber, basking it in a comforting glow. She breathed in deeply: once, twice, three times, until the fear fled from her body.

She had relived Arthur’s death every night since her wedding. A constant reminder of the monster she was married to. Tears pinched at the corners of her eyes as she shuddered.

 _Have I not suffered enough?_ She wondered despairingly.

—-

Who knew the gods could be so cruel?

—-

The constraints of married life chafed Mera.

Her days were much the same as they were before she was married. Except now she had Orm to attest to.

He wanted her with him at all times. From court gatherings, to advising sessions, to the nights he now shared in her bed. 

If she had speculated that he had not trusted her before, she was certain of it now.

She was not foolish enough to believe that he truly enjoyed her company, and recognized his affections to be calculated.

 _Look how enamored the King is with his Queen_ , the people say. Instead of,  _why does the King not let the Queen out of his sight?_

She can not be sure if he knows all of her treasons with Arthur, but knows that he suspects them all the same.

 _He has his suspicions_ , _but not proof,_ she reminds herself. For if he had evidence that she tried to help Arthur take the throne, he would have killed her himself already.

 _Orm does not forget and does not forgive_ , she thought grimly.

She would do well to remember that.

——

Weeks passed, and with it, came the planning of war.

Orm had to negotiate with the other Kingdoms in order to declare his wrath on the surface world, yet to his displeasure, the other Kings proved hesitant to join his cause.They did not think that the people who lived above them proved a formidable threat.

_The humans have been polluting our waters and hunting our animals for decades, why now should we fight them?_

Mera had been by his side as Orm argued, her arm wrapped firmly around his own. He was not a calm diplomat, and she feared what he might do in his anger. A man who kills his own brother will not hesitate to kill a King, she reasoned.

 _They are growing bolder_ , he spit towards the Fisherman King. _And_ _worst of all they are growing **curious,** it won’t be long before they themselves seek to invade our homes, and what will you do then?_

But the King had merely shook his head.  _Our people will always have the advantage in the ocean, no human can take that away from us. The time of war is not yet upon us._

She’d felt Orm’s body stiffen, but he nodded graciously all the same. They departed shortly afterwards, and she knew that he would simply replan and regroup.

He seethed as they made their way back towards the ship, and as she glanced at him, a feeling of dread pooled in her stomach.

_He will never give up on this._

——

Dinner was a tense affair.

They sat at opposite ends of the table, Orm still radiating with anger from his rejection.The only noise that could be heard was from the sound of their cutlery scraping across their plates. 

She ate as quickly as she could, hoping to rid herself of his presence. She was tired from travel and felt a pain building between her eyes; she did not want to deal with him tonight. 

Finishing her last morsel of squid, she bid to rise, only to be stopped by his cold voice calling out to her. “I’m not finished. It would be rude to leave while I’m still eating.”

She felt her muscles tense, and swallowed down her irritation. “I have a headache,” she replied cooly, “I want to go to bed.”

“You can sleep after I finish eating,” he returned. Then, a pregnant pause. “I also have some things I wish to discuss with you.” His voice echoed, too loud in their stilted silence.

Mera sat down hesitantly. She could see the tightness around his mouth, his anger tightly coiled. Her unease was slowly growing.

He smiled thinly at her. “You were quiet today.”

She shrugged at him, feigning disinterest. “I thought that you were handling things.”

“Did you now?” He said darkly, his grip tightening around his knife. “So you had nothing to say at all?”

She watched the fury cloud over his face, and felt her eyes glow briefly. “Nothing you would want to hear.”

_Thunk!_

He snapped the knife in half.

Her hands clenched as she watched him, the current around them growing stronger. His eyes were poisonous and he looked unhinged. She would not let her guard down.

“Control yourself,” she snapped. “Your behavior is unbecoming of a king!”

Orm bristled at that. “Watch your tongue Mera,” he warned. “Those are strong words coming from the mouth of a Queen that plots treason against her husband!”

The accusation hung between them, and her stomach dropped from out beneath her.  _He has no proof,_  she thought desperately.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and willed herself to remain calm. “I have always been loyal to you,” she said carefully, as though soothing a wild beast. “You know this.”

The king frowned and said nothing. She could see that his mind was in disarray. Paranoia was leaving him reckless.

“I know that there is treachery within my kingdom,” he stated surely. The anger was building in him again. “I will find out all who seek to undermine my rule.”

 _And you will kil them,_ she thought bitterly, _as you did to Arthur._

But she did not dare to say this.

“It’s getting late,” she managed at last. “Are you almost finished?”

Orm focused in on her again, his eyes still shrouded in distrust. “All most.”

He returned to his meal after that.

No more words were spoken between them.

 —-

She lays beside him stiffly that night, his arm like a vice around her waist.

He had taken her flat on her back this time, his eyes boring intently into her own. His earlier actions had left her feeling repulsed, and it had burned when he entered her. He did not leave after he finished, and she felt her resentment towards him grow. 

“From now on you will use your Xebel heritage and back my claims for this war,” he whispered suddenly, his voice ghosting alongside her ear. Mera withheld the urge to recoil.

“Because if you don’t,” he continued quietly, “I will know for certain whether or not you are the treasonous liar I still believe you to be. ”

Mera had never hated him more than she did in that moment. “I will,” she vowed fiercely. _You will not get the best of me._

She felt his kiss upon her neck then, and thought of how far she had fallen.  _Fucked and tucked to sleep by the man who wishes me dead._

How had her life come to this?

“Sleep,” he commanded, and she was powerless to deny him.

—

She dreamt of nothing.

—

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The King of Xebel stared back at Mera, his face twisted in displeasure.

She had already spent hours pleading with him, yet his resolve stood firm. _We cannot offer him our support father_ , she’d begged, uncaring that she was a Queen, and that such things should be beneath her. _You do not know what he is capable of._

 _And what is he capable of?_ He asked wearily. The lines around his mouth deepened. _Winning this war?_

Her teeth caught the inside of her cheek, and blood spilled into her mouth. “He is deranged,” she insisted, her tone reeling with disgust. “He does not want to protect our people, he wants to enforce his wrath on the surface world and will sacrifice millions of atlantean lives in order to do so!”

 _Unless_ she managed to stop him.

Without the support of of Xebel, Orm could not hope to succeed. The people would never fight for him if both her father and the Fisherman King opposed him, and she thought he had little chance with the Crab Kingdom as well.

But swaying her fathers mind was proving to be harder than she thought. “His personal biases do not matter,” he informed her, and Mera felt her mouth gape.“Too long we have stood by and done nothing as the surface dwellers contaminate our waters. I have grown tired of their infringements, and if war is the only way to curb them, then so be it.”

Mera did not know what to say to that.

She looked at the man wearing her fathers face, and felt as though she was conversing with a stranger. “Kings should not advocate for bloodshed,” she said reproachfully, and watched as a wave of shame passed over his face. “They should champion for _peace_.”

His expression grew drawn at her words, but he made no move to contradict her. _He knows this is wrong and he does not care._  Meras heart ached as she regarded him. She felt her faith in him slipping away.

_What happened to you father?_

 ——

He hugged her as she made way to leave, pressing a cool kiss upon her forehead.

“You can’t tell him what I told you,” she murmured. Her voice came out choked. “Because if he _knows_ that I don’t support him he’ll-”

“I won’t,” he promised quietly. “I will tell him nothing.”

She extracted herself from his grip then, and jutted her chin out. “I don’t like being married to him,” she said suddenly. He needed to understand this. “I’m not happy.”

_And I will **never** be happy so long as I am married to him._

Silence greeted her, and King Nereus averted his eyes. She had never seen her father so cowed.

He worked his throat a few times before speaking again, his tone heavy with grief.

“I know.”

—--

Orm was waiting for her when she arrived back in Atlantis, and the sight of his figure filled her with loathing.

 _Does he not have a kingdom to run,_  she thought angrily. _Or does he mean to rule only me?_

She fought to keep her expression neutral as she swam up to him. “Your grace,” she greeted smoothly. “How fared your day?”

He looked at her strangely for a moment, perhaps due to the fact that she had never expressed interest in hearing his thoughts before. But he humored her none the less.

“Fine,” he answered curtly, as though he was doing her some great favor by responding. Mera sighed softly and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

They continued the swim back to the palace and she thought that to be the end to their small talk, but then he opened his mouth once more. “And how was your... _visit_ with your father?”

He said visit through grit teeth, as though he knew they did more than chat idly.

 _Not that he’d be wrong_.

It had been hard to get him to allow her to see her father alone. His trust in her was still lacking, but she thought he was growing tired of her constant presence by his side, and looked forward to a few hours of respite.

“It was pleasant,” she said lightly. “He was glad to see I was doing well.” The lies were bitter on her tongue, but what choice did she have? It was not as though she could tell him she only went there to try and change her fathers mind about his allegiance, and that she had failed in doing so.

 _Neither my father nor my husband respect me,_  she thought resentfully.

They placed a golden crown upon her head and called her Queen. Yet never before had she felt more powerless.

 _They both want me to simply do as they say,_ and she had, hadn’t she?

Her fathers perfect princess and her husbands dutiful wife. The truth of the notion stung her pride, and she found herself leaning away from Orm.

 _The ocean heeds my fingers and still I bow to the whims of men_. She felt undeserving of its power.

She tried valiantly to think of Queen Atlanna. She was a Queen _and_ a warrior and even she could not escape her royal duty. _At least she found love once,_  she remembered jealously, sneaking a glance towards her husband. That was more than she could ever hope for.

Her thoughts continued to stew, and she felt a warm spike in her blood that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I should be more than this,” she whispered under her breath. The words felt bold and powerful.  _I **can** be more than this._

She would make it so.

—-

Her feelings of unjustness lingered until nightfall, and the arrival of Orm in her chambers intensified her mood even further. She would bow to him no longer.

“I don’t want you here tonight,” she told him. _I have a voice, let him hear it. “_ And I don’t want you here tommorow.” She was through with withholding her emotions. _Let him try and punish me._ She felt a rush of elation flow through her. “I have _never_ wanted you here!”

Her chest was heaving as she glowered at him, but he looked unperturbed by her outburst. He was placing his crown on a table as he always did, and his calmness enraged her.

“I want you out!” She shouted. Her yell reverberated throughout the room. _You will listen to me,_  she thought, half mad with rage.

Finally, he turned to look at her, and his eyes were hard and black. She had never _seen_ such dark eyes. The queerness of them made her spine stiffen.

“What’s the matter, my Queen?” He asked mockingly. He sneered as he saunted closer, his hands spasming in and out of fists. He wanted to hurt her, and badly. “Did your visit with your father not go as planned?”

 _He knows nothing,_ she reminded herself. He was trying to goad her. She wouldn’t fall for it.

“Get. Out. _Now.”_ Her voice was steel.

He stopped at the foot of her bed. His body was trembling with the force of his anger. “You dare to command your King?”

And the dam within her _burst._

”You are not my king!” She cried out. _Let the whole world hear her. “_ You are a pathetic, evil _coward_ who killed Arthur and _he_ should be the ruler of Atlantis, not you! What would your mother _think_ if she could see you now. Did you think she would be proud of you, because _I_ think-“

Her words were interrupted as he launched himself at her. His fingers biting cruely into her shoulders. “You shut up!” He demanded, his weight crushing her into the mattress. “You will _never_ speak of my mother, do you hear me? You awful, scheming _bitch_! I should kill you for your treasons, I _will_ kill you-”

Then it was _he_ who was cut off as she used a water vortex to hurl him from the bed, his back making a sickening crunch as he landed on the floor. He gasped for a second, though whether from shock or pain she couldn’t tell, and she found herself racing out of the room.

She propelled herself through the hallways, guards and citizens startled by her fleeing. _What have I done?_ She thought wildly. _He will kill me for this._  

The salt in the water burned her cheeks as she cut through the passageways. _I have to get to my ship._ It was her only salvation. Get to her ship and get as far away from Atlantis as possible. Where she went was not important. Her fathers kingdom maybe, to seek asylum, or the surface world if she was daring. As long as it is away from _here._

She had just neared an exit when she heard an enraged bellow behind her. “Find her! Find the Queen and bring her to _me_!”

Orms command echoed throughout the palace, and soon enough she heard the sound of guards trailing her. “Stop, in the name of your King!” They shouted, but she didn’t dare heed their orders.

She forced her powers to the limit as she burst through the palace gates, ripping through the ocean at breakneck speeds. The voices behind her grew faint and _still_ she pressed on.

Hidden between a dark cove sat her ship, and she nearly yanked the door off as she made her way inside. She wasted no time in starting up the engines, and sped away into the night.

The city’s lights swirled her vision as she steered between buildings, hoping against hope that she wasn’t being followed.

“I’m gone, he won’t find me,” she whispered to herself, and failed to notice her silver bracelet, twinkling against her skin.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mera’s skin was _burning_.

Her thoughts were swimming as she felt urgent hands brush over her. _Stop_ , she wanted to say, _don’t touch me_. But her tongue felt too heavy in her mouth, and she could get no words out.

Soon after an acrid scent invaded her senses, something so sharp and herbal that it made her throat ache, and she nearly gagged as a pungent paste was smeared along her cheekbones.

“What of her stomach?” She heard suddenly, and it was _his_ voice.

Blinding fear overtook her pain for a second, and she tried valiantly to move. _He’s going to kill me_ , she panicked, but hands were pressing down on her at all sides, and she had no strength to fight them.

Then, another voice answered him. “There are no burns there, Your Grace. She was fortunate.”

 _Fortunate_ , the word echoed strangely throughout her mind. What about her situation could be considered fortunate?

A feeling of uneasiness pooled lowly in her stomach.

“Then the child will survive?”

Her breath hitched, and her uneasiness turned to dread.

_Child…?_

“The baby appears to be fine, Your Grace. The Queen is carrying early, and I expect a full recovery.”

 _The Queen is carrying early_.

Her heart thudded painfully against her chest; they were talking about **_her._**

It was the nurse’s statement that finally pierced through the shrouded veil of her mind, and the realization hit her at once. _Child_ , she comprehended. _My child_.

Suddenly, some nameless instinct took over her, and she tried boldly to buck against her captors once more. Her sudden siege of strength seemed to startle them, and she’d nearly flopped off the table when she felt a powerful hand against her chest, slamming her roughly against the smooth metal surface.

The force of the jolt sent a flash of white pain across her vision, and she cried out as the intensity of her wounds nearly knocked her senseless. “Please,” she begged, though for who or what, she did not know.

“Put her back under!” Orm commanded.

She felt a prick along her vein, and then she knew nothing once more.

\-------

Time passed after that, though how much she could not say.

Her existence was plagued by medicinal induced slumbers, broken up only by brief periods of agonizing awareness.

Multiple concoctions were layered across her injuries. Numbing creams and stinging ointments. Some of them cooled the fire that was raging across her skin, others burned so badly she sobbed.

Flashes of memories filled her consciousness through these torments, and she grasped at them recklessly, desperate to distract her mind.

 _Being chased across rooftops, an array of white figures at her back. A man encased in black armor, **Atlantean armor,** blasting at her with razor sharp precision. Nearly to the ocean, her fingers **pulling** from its waters, only to feel bright, hot, unimaginable **pain**_.

Never before had she felt such agony.

Even now, with her body salved and her stomach filled with bitter brews, she could _still_ feel it, the throbs of pain threating to rip her from her slumber.

And through it all, was _him._

He didn’t speak, yet his presence was unmistakable.

He was a pillar, a constant figure at her side. Not one she could lean on, but one that would _crush_ her if he had to, if he **_wanted_** to.

 _And I want him to,_ she thought pathetically, though she knew he would not. Not yet, at least.

She was not so dull as to think he was keeping her breathing due to any act of mercy. He wanted something, something only _she_ could provide.

And he had to keep her alive in order to get it.

\-------

When she finally- _truly_ awakens, it’s with a stabbing pain behind her eyes and King Orm’s face looming above her.

She tenses almost imperceptibly at the sight, and he laughs humorlessly at her. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you already.”

Mera, all too aware of the healing burns that cover her body, scoffs before sneering. “So it was not you who sent that… _creature_ after me?”

Orm did not even try to feign innocence at her accusation, instead choosing to shrug his shoulders almost carelessly. “There are many who take slights against those who threaten their King. How am I to know every nameless assassin?”

She balked at that and tried to sit up, her withered muscles screaming their protest. “Threaten you?” She asked disbelievingly, “It was you who attacked me!”

His eyes grew shadowed at her words, and she watched silently as he replayed the memories of their altercation in his head. “You outed yourself as a traitor.” His voice was cold, and his lips curled. “Your death is owed to me.”

Mera swallowed roughly as he moved to lean over her, watching warily as he placed his palm upon her stomach. “ _This_ ,” he stated surely, and they both knew the meaning of his word, “Is the only reason you are not rotting beneath the sand right now.”

Then, faster than she could blink, he had his hand around her throat. “Did you know?” He demanded, as her pulse hammered wildly against his fingers.

“No,” she admitted bitterly. “But I wish that I had. I’d have killed myself before I gave you an heir.”

His eyes blazed as the pressure around her throat tightened, and she thought he meant to squeeze the life out of her, then and there. “Do it,” she dared, and watched victoriously as his look turned to loathing.

He snarled as he ripped himself away from her, leaving Mera to choke as her lungs tried to take in air. Her eyes were watering as she started to cackle at him, her voice bordering on unhinged. “You are insane,” she gasped. “Our people will crumble under your rule.”

Orm’s chest heaved as he struggled to control himself, and she wondered if he had always been this deranged, or if the weight of being king had splintered the broken fragments of his mind.

“You will stay here,” he ordered, “and you will eat, and drink, and do _everything_ I say, so when the child is old enough, I can **_cut_** it out of you!”

His cruel words rang against Mera’s ears, and she felt as though she had just been bludgeoned alongside the head. _He speaks true, he will_ _chain me to the wall if he must_. The possibility seemed fathomless.

She swallowed down her fear and clung to her fury, it was her only lifeline, as feeble as it was. “I will kill you,” she cursed, in a frenzy of despair. “I will call upon the wrath of the ocean and lay waste to you and your entire _rotten_ kingdom!”

Orm levelled her with a harsh look. “You will do as I say,” he reminded her, “Or you will _wish_ that you had.”

She screamed at him then, a mixture of rage and pain and misery, and he listened for only a moment before leaving her to wallow.

.

.

.

 

The door was barred in his wake.


End file.
